Warts: A Harry Potter Parody
by Sorceress Ink
Summary: What REALLY goes on inside Harry Potter's head? Is he the lovable scarhead we all "see".... or a blasted egomaniac? A parody! And I'm a fan. Flame me for hating the series and I will laugh. Oh, yes, I will LAUGH.
1. Chapter 1

_**Warts**_

_**A Parody of The Harry Potter Series**_

I walked down the hallway of my-I mean, _the_ school, Hogwarts. It was kind of annoying with all the ladies throwing themselves at my feet, because, you know, I'm Harry Potter. The Boy Who Lived. However, scarheaded gentleman that I am, I allowed it. I mean, I _am_ Harry Potter. You know, that kid who kicked Voldewhothefuck's ass as a two year old kid? Yeah, the Boy Who Lived. Me. Harry James Effin' Potter. It's kind of hard to keep your cool around me, because, well... I'll just say it. I'm hot shit.

Especially since Fred and George left last month. _Especially _since Cedric kicked the bucket and all. For a while I was kind of like "boo-hoo", but then I realized: my final competition for the ladies is dead!

_Score!_

My ginger-headed sidekick who drags his tongue after me, Ron Weasley, straggled up to me. It was obvious he wanted to bask in the glow of my uber-awesomeness. I mean, it's just not possible he just wanted to hang out. Who wants casual discussion about crap we're not going to remember two days from now, let alone thirteen years, when you can get a free tan from my aura? "H-h-hey Harry," Ron mumbled, barely keeping it together.

"'Sup, Ronnie-O." I raised my eyebrows. Chicks love that dark and mysterious crap.

"Malfoy's been bugging me again."

"What, that slimy git? No worries, Ronnie boy, I'll take care ofit_._" I strutted effortlessly down the hallway, flipping back my calculatedly messy black hair. A first-year swooned at my feet. That happens alot. "Oh, and Neville, get her to the Infirmary." Neville has absolutely no life so I let him follow me around. He appeared miraculously. Hey, I'm Harry Potter. I can do that. Neville and his puny muscles somehow managed to drag the girl the five feet to the Infirmary door. I guess I could have done it, but that would have meant messing up my manicure.

Who should come along at that moment but Hermione Granger, the hottest effing smartass in the entire school? Too bad Ron kind of had his eye on her. I don't steal my mates' girls. That's... just not _quelle._

Wait, I'm Harry Potter. I can do whatever the hell I want, I realized. Then I remembered: Oh, yeah. Viktor Krum has his eye on her two. (Or is that too? Hotshots like me don't need to spend time learning grammer. Grammar? Or is it math?) Anyway, so I strutted down my-I mean, the, hallway to kick some slicked-back, prissy prude, Daddy's-little-girl ass.

By that I mean Draco Malfoy's ass. And I will.

Cause I'm.... **Harry Potter.**


	2. Chapter Twoness

_**Chapter Two: I AreCoolness**_

I strutted down my-the-hallway. The "OMG!!!" looks that the ladies were shooting me were slightly odd, but I let it pass. It couldn't possibly be because my hair is so fucked up and I have a huge effing scar like a lightning bolt in the middle of my awesome head, although some people have told me that's why I get these looks. They were obviously surveying the awesomeness aura that spreads out from me like a freaking halo. (Yeah, I've been mistaken for an angel before. Especially by myself. Happens a lot.) Ron trailed behind me like my little abused puppy. I've been thinking about getting him a cute pink collar and a pretty leash with Golden Snitches on it. You dig?

I found Draco leaning against my wall. I was immediately sent into ultracool rage. Eww! How dare he uglify my wall with that greasy blonde mop of his?! I could catch whatever he has! Can you say total yuckiness?

"Yo,Malfoy," I growled in a sultry low tone.

"Potter," squeaked Malfoy in a preadolescent voice. Someone had been hitting the helium a wee bit too hard. Either that or he was scared of me like every other loser. Probably both.

"I hear you been beating on my main man Weasley," I spat at him. "What the shizzle, yo?"

Malfoy cleared his throat. "Take a Prozac, Harry," someone growled over my shoulder. It was Hot Hermione. Ron was literally drooling. Very unquelle.

"I mean really, no one talks like that anymore," Hermione explained. "And what in God's name is a shizzle?!" Okay, now a femme was questioning me? An amazingly hot one? This day was turning out to be a total _drag._

"Back off, Hermy," I replied. "This isn't your shindig."

"Call me Hermy again and I'll shove your wand up your ass and around the corner!" She slapped me! And it _huuuuurt!_ I was about to tell her off, but she smiled and winked at Malfoy, who followed her out.

Ron started sobbing. I rolled my eyes in angst. How could this happen to me? _ME? __**HARRY POTTER?**_


End file.
